


Dinner Date

by infandomswetrust



Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: AU, Crossover, Dinner, Double Date, Established Hannigram, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Hannibal, Touching, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Will Knows, but only slightly - Freeform, dark!Will, non established destiel, the food is probably people, when is it not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:51:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infandomswetrust/pseuds/infandomswetrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will have dinner with Dean and Cas.<br/>I suck at summaries. </p><p>Takes place about two years after Will's arrest and prior to the whole purgatory-shit. I've had this head canon for a long time, I hope you enjoy the hannigram-destiel double date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been waiting for a fanfiction where destiel is invited to dinner with hannigram and last night at about 4am I decided to f*ck it and write it myself. Be nice, this is my first fanfiction ever. Not beta read; also english's not my mother tongue so forgive any errors.

**Dinner Date**

 

Will first noticed the man at the door. It was a warm Saturday morning and since murderers apparently seemed to respect weekends all of a sudden he hadn’t been called in for a case. The hot sun made him feel drowsy, but now that his encephalitis was gone that wasn’t a feeling to be scared of anymore. He was standing in the parking lot of a supermarket and was just about to go in. The reason he was here was to clear his conscience in a way, by buying a new stock of dog food. His dogs had been admittedly neglected lately, now that he spent most of his spare time in Baltimore with Hannibal, and he felt like buying a lot of dog food in advance would convince his mind he wouldn’t just forget about them. Will sighed. Of course he wouldn’t, but he knew Hannibal wasn’t exactly fond of them and he didn’t want to impair their…relationship, if one could call it that, so early on. The mere thought of either Will or Dr. Lecter being in an actual relationship seemed foreign; let alone being in a relationship _together_.

The young man pushed those thoughts aside. It felt foreign, strange and impossible, yes. And yet he felt safe. Hannibal had always been his anchor and he could all but deny that he needed the man in his life. If this would be the role he would play in order to do that, Will was more than fine with it. A warm smile settled upon his features, as it always seemed to happen when he thought of Hannibal lately. An optimist might have called it love. A pessimist might have called it Stockholm syndrome. But Will was a realist, and he simply called it dancing. That’s what it was, really. A dark and twisted dance along the edge of a cliff, the danger of falling present every second; and the only thing to prevent from doing so was to clutch at the other. To clutch at Hannibal. He had the power to push him, to drop him, to let him fall; just like he did two years ago. But a lot had happened since that. Will couldn’t really say that he had forgiven Hannibal, he truly hadn’t and he doubted he ever would; but it was a fact that he needed him. He often wished he would have never met the man. From the first time they had seen each other, from the very beginning, he had been prey. And maybe now he had finally been caught. But it didn’t feel like that, it felt like he had been _saved_. The doctor was the only person who could truly understand him and he was the only constant in his life that he could trust. Those were the thoughts that were ghosting through his mind when a firm man wearing a dark brown leather jacket bumped into him at the door. Will winced at the sudden body contact and automatically took a step backwards. The other man was throwing him a wary look that basically said “What a freak” before he mumbled an apology and kept walking. Will shook his head and momentarily heard Hannibal’s voice in his mind, mouthing “Rude.” That happened quite often, as if the man constantly occupied part of Will’s brain. He probably did. Just in that moment his phone vibrated and the caller ID showed it was Hannibal. Will smiled and picked up.

“Hey”

“Hello Will. May I ask where you are?” Hannibal’s voice had a hint of concern in it and Will frowned upon realizing he had just left this morning without leaving a note where he was going whatsoever. This was an aspect of “being in a relationship” he had yet to get used to; to not actually being just an individual any longer; to include the other in his actions and decisions and to have someone who was just…there.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, I got up early… I’m at the supermarket; I need to get some stuff…”

“Will, I assure you I have enough ‘stuff’ here, you could have just asked.” Slight amusement resonated in the doctor’s voice, as much as relief. Not so long ago he had had reason to be worried Will might have wondered off in his sleep whenever he didn’t know the man’s whereabouts.

“I would have asked if I would have thought there was any chance you’d have dog food at home.” The young man said with a slight smile and made his way past the shelves. When he picked up the bag he saw the rude man from before again. He was struggling to carry two huge bags of salt. Will furrowed his brow but decided he was in no position to judge, since he was carrying a bag of dog food big enough to feed an entire shelter. He could hear Hannibal’s light laughter through the phone, a sound that made his entire body heat up in an almost electrifying way.

“In that particular case I might indeed not be of any help. But I must ask, what drove you to the sudden urge to buy dog food on a Saturday morning?”

Will felt himself blushing. He didn’t really know how to answer that question. In all honesty, he hadn’t given it much thought when he had gotten up in the morning and drove here. If he would dare to read into his own actions he might have said he wanted to make sure he was still the same man with the same life. A life that consisted of fishing, boat motors, dogs and the occasional psychopath. But did he even want that life? He wasn’t that man anymore, not entirely. He hadn’t been for years, not since the arrest. After he had been released from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane he had just been floating in his existence for a while; feeling that he had changed but not truly acknowledging it. Now he felt like he was finally filling out the shape someone else had built for him. His life with Hannibal was exiting and new but there were so many words left unspoken, so many things to talk about that neither of them ever brought up for the sake of their relationship. Despite all the dark corners they refused to explore, it worked. They worked, because they completed each other. Will wet his lips and answered

“I don’t know… I just remembered I’m almost out.” He knew Hannibal wasn’t convinced, the man was a psychiatrist after all, but that had to do for now. The doctor didn’t push him and just informed him warmly that he was likely to be absent when Will got back to the house because he had dinner plans for the evening he needed to take care of. Will grimaced but he didn’t allow himself to consider the actual meaning of these words. Dark corner. Avoid.

After he had hung up he got in line at the checkout and realized the rude man was standing right in front of him. He was on the phone, talking with a deep, hoarse voice. Will didn’t hear much of what he said, but he understood that the person he was talking to was apparently named Sam and that said person seemed to be in some other part of the country. The man put his phone away and scanned the supermarket. His body was perfectly still but his eyes seemed to be restless and generally questioning everything they saw. When he noticed Will behind him he turned and asked

“Hey, uh, you don’t happen to know where the closest motel is, do you?” Will shook his head, his gaze fixated on the man’s chin. Eye contact was still a problem. The man arched his brow and muttered

“Ok, not the talkative type, hm?” Will wanted to reply but the man had already turned back around. After they both had paid the empath could see the man walk up to another man that waited in the parking lot and seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He had dark hair and was wearing a trench coat that was carelessly draped over a suit and a loose blue tie. Will walked past them and was startled when he suddenly heard his name.

“I say we find this Graham guy and ask him a few questions…” the man in the leather jacket said just as he walked by.

“And say what Dean? He _actually_ works for the FBI, your usual tricks won’t work.” The other man retorted. Will hadn’t thought it possible, but his voice was even deeper than the other’s; “Dean’s” voice. The young empath shifted on his feet awkwardly, unsure what to do in a situation like this before he cleared his throat and stepped closer to the pair.

“Um, I’m sorry, I think you’re…um, looking for me?”

Both men turned around and stared at him. Their intense gazes felt like needles on Will’s skin. Dean was the one to answer first.

“ _You’re_ Will Graham?” he said in a disbelieving voice.

“Last time I checked.” He finally managed to fumble his badge out of his pocket and showed it to the two men.

“You don’t even seem that crazy.” Dean remarked.

“E…excuse me?” Will said. He hated the label people who didn’t even know him always seemed to put on him, probably mostly thanks to Freddie Lounds and Tattlecrime.

“What he meant is that you are known to be a possible serial killer.” The other man threw in, apparently meant apologetic but it only made things worse. Dean pressed one hand against the bridge of his nose and moaned.

“Yea, thanks Cas, _that’s_ what I meant.” In a sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Who are you?” Will asked slightly annoyed but mainly confused.

“I’m um…” Dean had actually intended to give a fake name as always but decided against it. “Dean Winchester. This is Castiel…” he paused and thought for a moment before he added “… Winchester.”

He could feel Cas’ eyes on his neck and tried to ignore the shiver they gave him.

“We read about you on some blog….”

“…Tattlecrime.” Will interrupted resigned. Although every journalist in the state had been eager about his story two years ago, Freddie Lounds seemed to be the only one who still had an intrusive interest in him now.

“Yea, that’s the one. So it said you’re some kind of mind-reader and that you’re on the Walters-case?” Dean asked.

Will pursed his lips. “It’s not ‘mind-reading’. And yes, I am. Why?”

“We were wondering what you could tell us about your suspect.” Dean replied in a steady voice, ignoring Will’s obviously unnerved gaze.

“Nothing.” The answer came quickly and Will’s voice was wry.

“Nothing?” the hunter asked suspicious.

“Nothing. It’s an official FBI case and details are not to be shared with civilians.” Will said sharply.

The man in the trench coat stepped in. “We’re not civilians, I am an…” Dean was quick to grab Cas at his shoulders and shoved him back to silence him. Will furrowed his brow. The two men got stranger every second. Dean cleared his throat.

“We… work for a newspaper and were just hoping you could give us some insight. You know, mind-reading stuff…”

“It’s _not_ mind-reading.”

“Whatever.” Will sighed. As weird as they seemed, there was something about the two he couldn’t quite put his finger on. They were… _good_ ; that’s the only word that came to mind. They were the good guys. He didn’t know what triggered that impression but it was there. Still, he couldn’t just tell them details about his last case. A double homicide and it had been almost too easy to catch the guy. The kill had been sloppy, careless and tasteless. Maybe Will had just grown higher standards during these past few years.

“I can tell you our profile…” he began reluctantly “…but that’s it.”

“Perfect. Let’s say 9 pm?” Dean asked quickly and searched his pockets for a card that fit the cover of a journalist. Will winced. He had been hoping he could just get this over with and tell them here and now, but he realized that of course they would want a proper interview. He regretted saying anything already.

“Um, I have plans tonight.” He stated and shortly considered just turning around and walking away. He would probably never see them again anyway.

“What kind of plans?” Dean asked urgently. Will looked up to meet his eyes very briefly before averting his gaze to the floor.

“ _Personal_ plans.” He hissed and thought of the dinner with Hannibal.

“Well we have a deadline so we can’t really reschedule.” Dean replied and thought of the werewolf that was possibly being held on the suspicion of double homicide.

“Neither can I.” Will answered and was about to actually turn around and walk away when Hannibal’s voice was in his head again. How terribly rude that would be. He knew what the doctor would do in his situation and he considered the possibility in his head for a moment before muttering

“I have dinner plans, I can ask my…” he trailed off. My what? What exactly was Hannibal to him? _Boyfriend_? _Partner_? _Lover_? All these words seemed so wrong. Soul mate would have probably come the closest but even Will realized how weird that would sound.

“I can ask if you can join.” He said instead and texted Hannibal, although he already knew the answer would be yes. The doctor was so damn sociable. The text that came only a few seconds later confirmed his apprehension. He sighed deeply.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He said.

“This is going to be a disaster.” He thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first course ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally every single kudos and comment made me squeak. Thank you so much <3  
> I couldn't really stop writing so here's the second chapter, even though it's a little short. Sorry about that.

As a psychiatrist, Hannibal was happy to see Will being able to socialize like this.

As his… whatever he was, he wanted to rip the two men into little pieces with his bare hands, as much as anyone else who would dare to even look at this beautiful creature that was _his_ and his alone. Hannibal believed one could call it “Jealousy”, as far as human emotions go. He wasn’t sure what to think of the situation but he was always glad to share his cooking and he trusted Will after all, so he decided to allow himself to look forward to the evening. Besides, they still had plenty of time until their guests would arrive…                                                            

*

The first thing Dean noticed was how huge the house was. They were standing in front of a _mansion_ and the hunter checked the text he had received again to make sure they had the right address. This didn’t seem like the kind of house the plain and simple man they had met earlier could or would afford. After checking the address three times he whistled through his teeth impressed as he realized that they were in fact at the right place. Shortly after knocking, the door was answered by Will and behind him stood a man that reminded Dean of an old duke one would read about in a history book. Not that he had read many books in his life, let alone history books. The man was wearing an elegant and perfectly tailored suit that matched the sophisticated look of the house. The hunter couldn’t help but think “snob” to himself. Dean suddenly noticed that the lips of both men were slightly pink and swollen and while Will's curls seemed to be gernerally messy, he was sure the other man had had to fix his hair before opening the door. The possessive hand the snob placed at the small of Will’s back upon introducing himself completed the image. He darted a glance at Cas and wondered if he had picked it up too. For some reason it seemed awfully important to Dean that the angel would notice the subtle hints between the two men standing in front of them. His friend just stared straight ahead and Dean sighed and quickly shook the hand that the man who had introduced himself as “Dr. Lecter” extended, knowing that Castiel wouldn’t.

When they were led into the dining room Dean couldn't suppress a gasp.

"This is huge" he brought out. Dr. Lecter smiled slightly and Will let out a laugh and said

"You should see the living room"

 There was a table in the center of the room, made of heavy, dark wood. When Dean sat down next to Cas, their knees brushed and it sent electric waves through Dean's body. He wondered if Cas had felt it too. He wondered if angles could even pick up sensations like that. Then he realized he had been staring at his friend and quickly tore his gaze from Cas to the food that was being placed in front of them. Dean smirked inwardly. Two of his favorite things in the world. The dish looked and smelled delicious and could have easily been served in some noble restaurant.

"You made this??"He asked disbelievingly and looked up at Hannibal.

The man smiled and answered "Everyone has a certain passion. Mine happens to be in the field of culinary arts.", but the way he looked at Will told Dean what the man's _main_ passion seemed to be.

"I must apologize; Will hasn't told me much about you. What is it that you do for a living?"

Dean had just taken a gulp from the wine and therefore wasn’t able to answer. In horror he realized Cas opened his mouth and he was almost shocked when instead of the expected "I am an angel of the lord" his friend simply said

"We're journalists"

Dean swallowed the wine and stared at Castiel who was visibly proud of himself. Their knees brushed again and for the split of a second Dean thought it might have been intentional.  
-Bullshit. Why would it be?- He thought to himself and focused on his hosts instead.

"What newspaper do you work for?" Hannibal asked.

"We…um 'The Sun'." Dean answered quickly.

"The Sun?" Will asked cautiously. "On the card you gave me it said 'The Daily Observer'"

Dean pursed his lips. Damn. "Yea, um, we renamed it." Both men threw him a doubtful look.

"It's a... It's a family business." He added.

"You introduced yourselves both as Winchester." Will remarked. "Are you…" he considered the tension between them for a moment "…married?"

Dean almost choked on his wine "No! God no, we're…" he wanted to say brothers but he and Cas looked nothing alike. Then there was a sudden strange urge to simply say yes, but he knew that would be nothing but awkward, although he wasn't sure Cas even knew what "awkward" meant.

"We're cousins" he said quickly and took another hasty gulp. Will furrowed his brow. His empathetic skills had picked up something entirely different between the two but he didn't comment on it.

"So it's just you two? The family business?" he asked instead.

"No, us and my brother Sam." Dean answered.

"I have brothers too." Castiel said in an attempt to join the conversation which failed miserably when he didn't say anything further. Dean sighed and wondered if the angel would ever understand the concept of conversation. Will looked at Cas irritated for a moment but dropped his gaze upon realizing he wasn't big on conversations either.

"Anyway, we'd really like to hear some mentalist-insight on Mr. Walters." Dean said to regain their hosts' focus.

Will pursed his lips. "It's not mind reading. I’m not a _'mentalist'_." he said unnerved, almost hissing and Hannibal found himself enraged by the effect the man's words had on _his_ Will and briefly wondered what sort of wine would flatter his guest’s flesh. He gently placed a warm, reassuring hand over Will's clenched fist and the empath's tensed body relaxed immediately.

 "As I said, I can provide you with the man's profile."

Dean nodded "Yeah, why don't you do... that."

Will briefly told them some facts about the murders, not going into detail but telling them most of what they already knew. The hearts of the victims had been taken and several other injuries and flesh wounds were found on the bodies; all of which screamed werewolf. When Will mentioned Mr. Walters had been "acting out" during his arrest Dean frowned.

 "He didn't bite anyone did he?"

 The empath jerked his head up and stared at Dean confused before averting his eyes again.

"No…" he said slowly.

Dean nodded "Yeah, just asking… Mr. Graham, there doesn't happen to be any silver where the guy's kept?"

Will drew in air sharply and stuttered confused “Um… Well, yes actually; there was a silver ash tray somewhere and he managed to grab it and attacked an agent.”

Before Will had the chance to ask why they’d possibly want to know _that,_  Cas spoke again.

“It’s not a werewolf, Dean.” Dean bit his lower lip and kicked Castiel underneath the table, an admittedly stupid action since Cas didn’t even wince while Dean felt like his foot had been shattered. He suppressed a painful moan. Their hosts were both staring at them. While Will’s face was an aghast display of pure confusion, Dr. Lecter’s expression was  still blank; if anything mildly curious. Dean let out a nervous laugh.

“That wasn’t… He’s kidding. It’s kind of an…inside joke between us.” He offered and quickly shoved a fork of meat into his mouth.

“Mmm, this is delicious.” He mumbled with his mouth full and swallowed it down with some more wine. “What kind of meat is that?” he then asked; almost as if to challenge Will’s and Hannibal’s own little “Inside-jokes”. The question pleased Hannibal enough to oversee the man’s dreadful table manners.

“Pork.” He simply answered with a mild smile and Will frowned and stared down at his plate, not wanting to meet his eyes. Sometimes he tried to ignore the fact that he knew. He tried to not know. It had been two years, he wasn’t really struggling anymore, he just preferred the feeling that this; his life; his relationship, could be _normal._ At first he had tried to be disgusted. But he had been in the Ripper’s head often enough to understand. He looked at the crime scenes and saw the art they truly were; he knew that these people were worth more like this, that they had served their purpose and had been turned into something much more valuable than they ever could have been in their poor, unimportant livelihood. He knew. Will really didn’t want to, but he understood, he understood so perfectly that he sometimes felt like he was merely Hannibal’s reflection in a still sea of dark blood. The young empath shuddered and leaned closer to Hannibal instinctively. Of course the doctor noticed and threw him a concerned look. Will knew that in that moment he wanted to comfort him, to make the shadows and the nightmares go away like only he could and for a short moment he wished they were alone. A hem from across the table reminded him that they weren’t. Dean was in the act of standing up and tore Castiel with him on his elbow while muttering

“Would you excuse us for a minute?”

The men left at the table both gazed after them with wary looks. Their guests were definitely strange, and coming from Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter that sure meant a lot.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice how Will ships destiel and Dean ships hannigram :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel the sexual tension.... FEEL IT

As soon as Dean and Castiel had left the room, Will felt less on edge. It was just him and Hannibal now. He ignored the grinning little devil in his mind who shouted “And the person on your plate”; or rather punched him in the face and buried him deep underneath other, less dangerous thoughts. Hannibal cleared his throat.

“Will, your behavior leads me to believe that something is wrong. What is troubling you?”

The man’s voice sounded honestly concerned and Will could feel Hannibal’s eyes on him. He forced himself to look up to meet them. On rare occasions Will _needed_ eye contact, at least if the other pair belonged to Hannibal. Still, he couldn’t sustain the stare longer than a few seconds and dropped his gaze to the doctor’s lips instead. Will had actually intended to answer but now, watching those truly mesmerizing lips, he thought better of it and leaned in to capture them between his own. The kiss started out as slow, warm movements but quickly became more passionate. Suddenly the entire world was centered between their tongues and the way they seemed to fit together perfectly, as if they had been built to kiss each other. Will shifted closer to Hannibal, desperate to fill every possible gap between them and moaned softly when he felt the other’s teeth grazing his lower lip. Hannibal was the one to break the kiss after a while and placed a firm hand on Will’s chest to lead him back to his own chair gently.

“Will, we have guests.” He reminded him, only slightly panting.

If he hadn’t before, Will certainly regretted inviting the strange pairing over now. He sighed and took a frustrated sip from his wine. A year ago he might have gulped it down like Dean, but Hannibal had taught him to appreciate and savor the finer things life had to offer.

“You haven’t answered my question.” Hannibal remarked with a silent command in his tone. Will pursed his lips. He knew he had been acting strange today but he wasn’t even quite sure of why himself. For one brief moment he caught a glimpse of what he had been burying somewhere in his mind to be forgotten and never remembered. All the dark corners he and Hannibal had been avoiding were abruptly beating him up from the inside and suddenly he knew why.

“I just… I wonder how this would feel… if it was actually real.” He paused. “You know, waking up in the same bed, inviting people over, _being together._ ”

Hannibal arched his brow. “And what about that is not ‘real’?” he asked slightly perplexed.

“It’s all based on lies. It might look normal but it isn’t and it certainly doesn’t feel that way. What they see…” he motioned at the door Dean and Cas had disappeared through “…is a façade.”

Hannibal looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “I see. Will, I’m sure you’re quite aware this is the first time you’ve addressed this topic?”

Will shrugged. “I didn’t want to ruin this. I…” he fought for words “…I need you.”

Hannibal reached over to take Will’s hand and squeezed it gently. “We have been avoiding to talk about what we both know could destroy our relationship. Will, you know what I am, and yet you are here. I am aware of how difficult this must be for you, but I didn’t want to push you to discuss topics you might not be comfortable with.”

Will stroked his thumb over Hannibal’s knuckles absently and considered his words. He knew they couldn’t keep ignoring the elephant in the room and pretend that they were in fact _normal._ He knew the needed to bring light to those dark corners, even if horrible monsters were lurking there. The young man swallowed and looked up to stare into Hannibal’s eyes again.

“Are you asking me if I want to talk about it?” he said and quoted the stereotypical phrase sarcastically. Hannibal’s lips curled into a slight smile.

“I believe I am.” he said and watched Will’s reaction carefully. The empath raised his free hand and rubbed it over his face like he had done so often, back when terrible headaches had constantly been torturing the young man.

“Yes. Yes, I wanna talk about it.” he muttered into his palm and grunted upon remembering they had company.

“But I don’t think now’s the best time.”

Hannibal nodded. “I agree, although I am glad you have brought it up. We have all the time in the world. Try to enjoy the evening, Will.”

There was something about Hannibal’s voice that was so soothing, so calming that Will felt a lot more eased immediately. He smiled and leaned forward to find Hannibal’s lips again and placed a not so innocent hand on his inner thigh, not caring that their guests were in the other room.

*

After leaving the dining room Cas looked at Dean questioningly. The angel didn’t quite understand why his friend had torn him out like that; he had found the dinner rather enjoyable.

“We should leave.” Dean muttered.

“Leave?” Cas asked confused. He wasn’t sure how humans dealt with suppers, but he felt like leaving midway was unusual.

“Yes, Cas, leave. They’re probably already calling the loony bin as we speak.” Dean answered, audibly distressed.

“But Dr. Lecter is a psychiatrist.” Cas threw in. Apparently that hadn’t been the right thing to say and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you think we might have seemed just a little weird to them?!” There was a clear bite to Dean’s voice and Cas found he didn’t like it.

The angel pursed his lips and said nothing, not wanting to make Dean more upset. He always felt a strange pinch in his chest when Dean was upset with him. Sometimes he wondered if his vessel might have a defect, but then again it only ever happened with Dean. There were lots of strange feelings in his chest when the hunter was around. Suddenly something came to mind and Cas was proud for remembering it.

“Wouldn’t it make us more suspicious if we left now?” he asked and saw by Dean’s reaction that he was right.

“Yea… yes, I s’pose.” Dean thought for a moment and clenched his jaw. “Alright, we’ll stay. But no more werewolf-talk!” he added quickly. In all honestly, he was glad; the meat was just too damn good to leave behind. That and in a way it felt nice to have dinner like that; almost like a… he realized his mind had been about to think “double-date” and frowned. Suddenly he felt like he needed more wine. That feeling strengthened when he realized that Cas was standing extremely close once again. He had given up on telling the angel about personal space and part of him was unsure if it was because he liked it to have Cas so close. Maybe he wanted him even closer. The hunter winced. Those were dangerous thoughts and he quickly pushed them away.

“Dean?” Cas’ voice tore him back to reality. He jerked his head up and felt caught, as if the angel could actually read his thoughts. Maybe he could, who knew? There were lots of things he didn’t know about Castiel, he had no illusions there.

“Shouldn’t we go back in?” Cas asked. Dean nodded. Maybe a little too quickly, but then he threw a look around. They were standing in what must have been the living room Will had been talking about. Suddenly Dean realized how ridiculously underdressed they both were. Their hosts were dressed rather elegantly; Dr. Lecter even more so and Dean didn’t doubt for a second that he had picked out the clothing for Will too. He cleared his throat and his eyes caught Cas’ loose tie.

“Hold on.” The hunter muttered and stepped even closer to fix it, like he had a few times before. In a way he was taking advantage of the little knowledge Cas had about what was usual, but he couldn’t stop himself from doing it. There was something so intimate in the harmless gesture. It took him a lot longer than it normally would have to tie a tie, partly because his hands where slightly shaking but mostly because he tried to make the moment last as long as possible. He straightened the tie out by running one hand down the length of it and felt Cas’ body through the fabric. Firm and athletic, but not quite as muscular as Dean himself…

-Just _perfect_.- he thought and immediately wished he would have taken his wine with him. He wondered if his friend had just been lucky enough to pick an especially handsome vessel or if it was the angel hidden inside that made him seem so perfect. Probably both- he decided. He had redone the entire knot, although he could have just made the previous one tighter, but this could be another excuse to take longer than necessary. While he was tying the knot his fingers brushed over his friend’s neck and jawline and he felt the same electric waves as before. When he looked up the angel was smiling- a rare but breathtakingly beautiful sight. Dean didn’t allow himself to read into why Cas was smiling and took a small step back to take a look at his work. He realized that personally, he preferred the casual, somewhat sloppy look Cas usually had, but nevertheless he stepped closer again to fix the trench coat too, because he felt like testing his luck. He straightened the collar and ran both hands down Cas’ chest. The tension almost made him burst and in that moment he was glad that Cas couldn’t pick up sensations like that. Then he realized that he didn’t actually know for sure he couldn’t; it had been more of a self-protective thought that made him feel a little less edgy, but he had no idea if Cas really couldn’t feel the tingling tension between them. Lastly, Dean ran his hands over the other man’s broad shoulders and finally stepped back for good. The angel was _still_ smiling and Dean swallowed hard. He really needed that damn wine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't get over how in love I am with all of them. I wanna be the destiel and the hannigram sandwich filling. 
> 
> ....That sounded less weird in my head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dinner continues...

Hannibal didn’t dare to get entirely lost in the sensation of Will’s lips on his own. The temptation was pressing of course, his own beautiful creation kissing him, _touching him,_ but Hannibal had mastered his self-control throughout his lifetime.

Maybe not quite enough, considering Will was currently almost sitting on his lap. The doctor allowed one more kiss, Will’s eager tongue pressing against his own, before he pulled back, dragging his teeth over the other man’s lower lip as he did, and guided the empath back to his place carefully. They had guests after all, and though Hannibal was a lot of things; a bad host was certainly not among them.

He realized Will was panting and was glad that the empath managed to calm his breath just in time, as the door swung open and Dean and Cas came back in. The doctor immediately noticed that the dark haired man had seemed to have fixed his attire, a change he very much welcomed. He found the two men intriguing and felt a slight curiosity rising. He didn’t believe that they were cousins for a second, and he knew that Will didn’t either. Also they were clearly not journalists. While anyone else might have felt unsettled Hannibal felt mildly entertained at most. He was certain that this was going to be an interesting evening, although it was of course regrettable he and Will had had to interrupt their interactions.

“Um, sorry about that.” Dean muttered and sat back down. It was easily detectable that the tension in the room had changed. Hannibal briefly wondered what might have occurred between the two men during their absence, and cautiously avoided to look at Will, knowing the man would still be a wild mess of desire, serving as a reminder of what had just occurred between _them._

Dean felt the man’s gaze drifting from Cas to himself and something about it reminded him of a predator. He found the man just downright creepy. He was glad when Will started speaking; somehow everything the man did immediately tore Dr. Lecter’s entire attention to him.

“So was there anything else you wanted to know about the case?” he muttered and seemed to be entirely elsewhere with his thoughts. Dean thought for a moment. It wasn’t a werewolf so they didn’t really have anything to worry about, but what he had read about Will Graham had made him curious, to say the least.

 “How do you do it? The…” he almost said “mind-reading” again and bit his lip. “…thing?”

Will pursed his lips. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about the “thing”. The young man sighed and looked at Dean, his eyes wandering as high as his chin.

“I… slip into the killer’s mind. I see through his eyes and that allows me to see into his head.”

“So you spend your time in some sicko’s mind? That sucks, man…” Dean muttered and felt honestly sorry for Will. He had never been possessed by a demon, but he imagined being trapped inside a killer’s mind probably felt similar. Different devil, same evil.

Will just shrugged while Hannibal inwardly frowned at Dean’s vulgar mode of expression.

“I gotta admit, that Lounds-chick’s got you all wrong.” Dean said. The man in front of him didn’t seem dangerous or psychopathic at all. He wondered how the reporter had gotten such an impression; the man couldn’t even make eye-contact. Dean would have felt more threatened by a puppy.

Will clenched his jaw. “Freddie Lounds has no interest in the truth. She’s just… a parasite, hungry for blood and gore to write about. It’s…tasteless.”

“Lies are a human error; second nature to all of us, and anyone who denies it has simply lied again.” Hannibal chimed in. “ _And the tongue a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell.”_ He quoted and Castiel looked up in surprise.

“James 3:6” the angel said. Hannibal nodded at glared at Cas with growing interest. The man hadn’t spoken much yet, but Dr. Lecter considered him an a lot more pleasant guest than Dean.

“Not many people would be able to place a bible quotation that accurately.” The psychiatrist said. Cas nodded.

“Indeed they wouldn’t.” He confirmed.

While Hannibal was growing interested, Will was growing suspicious. He chewed on his lower lip and suddenly said

“You’re not journalists, are you?”

Hannibal was amused Will had figured it out too. He hadn’t expected for him to realize their guests seemed to be far more peculiar than originally assumed this soon, but then again Will always kept surprising him. He saw Dean’s reaction; caught, stunned, resigned. He could read the man like an open book, while Castiel seemed to hardly display any emotions on his face. 

“We, um…” Dean seemed to think of a way to talk himself out of the situation and Hannibal wondered if that usually worked for him. The man gave up with a look at Dr. Lecter’s face and admitted

“No. No, we’re not.”

“Then what are you? And why’d you want information about my case??”

Hannibal felt very pleased upon realizing how upset the empath was. Will was always beautiful, but when he was angry, his eyes seemed to darken in the most astonishing way and the potential Hannibal had always tried to bring to light was slowly seeping through his pores, not revealing too much but setting free a glimpse of what could be that left the doctor breathless. He stared at Will adoringly and was only able to avert his eyes when Dean answered, picking his words carefully.

“We’re…professional hunters.”

Now _that_ was interesting. He had known that there was something about these men. They were strong, in every sense of the word. He had known that when he was looking at them, he was looking at soldiers, in a way. Of course he didn’t feel intimidated by that. That kind of emotion was alien to him; he hadn’t experienced anything that would have come close to fear since he was a little boy. Not even when he had been crucified; bruised and helpless, with his own blood dripping from his wrists had he felt _intimidated_ by Matthew Brown. He had merely felt what he commonly felt; curiosity. And of course he had been intrigued and impressed by Will’s efforts. 

“What is it that you hunt?” Dr. Lecter asked. There was a considerable moment of silence until Dean asked

“Do you believe in the supernatural, Dr. Lecter?” His tone was facetious but his eyes were serious.

Hannibal couldn’t keep a certain look of surprise from his face but he quickly restored his mask.

“I believe there are many things in this world that go beyond human understanding.” He replied and casually laced his fingers.

Will arched his brows. He hadn’t expected Hannibal to say something like that; the doctor was definitely one of the most rational people he knew.  Will didn’t believe in ghosts.

Funny, considering he had once been haunted by one for over a year.

No, that had been his imagination, nothing more. Garrett Jacob Hobbs was dead, and what’s dead stays dead. There was no such thing as ghosts and the only monsters that existed were sadly very human.

“Surely you are not implying that you are hunting ghosts?” The psychiatrist asked with a light tone.

“Nah; that would be crazy, right?” Dean retorted with a bitter smile.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garrett Jacob Hobbs as vengeful spirit? Think about it....  
> Maybe they weren't hallucinations after all...  
> 


	5. Epilogue

The evening had been more than satisfying. Hannibal had found the conversation fascinating and he silently made a note to himself to return to think about the subject of the supernatural in a quiet moment. Right now he was too distracted by the young man that was helping him clean up the table, although Hannibal had told him repeatedly he didn’t have to.

The doctor inhaled deeply. Will’s scent was truly intoxicating, and now that they were alone again it didn’t mix with anything other than his own scent, as it was supposed to be.

Will noticed Hannibal was watching him and smiled. He put the last plate aside and propped himself on the kitchen counter. It had been a long day and he had been forced to socialize a lot more than he was used to. The empath could feel a heavy sleepiness creeping up in him. They had yet to talk about… well, everything, but Will was sure that could wait until tomorrow. There was a single flake of dust floating through the air, a sight that seemed strange and completely out of place in Hannibal’s kitchen. Will followed the flake with his eyes absently when suddenly his chin was caught by gentle fingertips and warm lips pressed on his own. The kiss deepened and when he was suddenly shoved against the wall and a leg pressed between his, Will knew that Hannibal’s plans for the evening were anything but over. He smiled against the other man’s lips and in an instant all fatigue was forgotten. Hannibal’s body pressed against his and fitted perfectly to fill all the gaps, like the long lost last piece of a puzzle. There was absolutely no space for dark corners between them in that moment; and Will could have sworn their hearts started to beat in the same rhythm.

*

“Well that was… something else.” Dean and Cas were standing at a lonely gas station. It was a clear night and the angel had been staring at the stars before he looked at Dean. He realized his eyes looked like stars. Cas liked the thought.

“I thought it was nice.” The angel said. The dinner had actually been enjoyable. He was about to leave; now that they could be sure it wasn’t a werewolf Dean didn’t need his help anymore. Not that he would have necessarily needed it anyway, but since Sam had stayed with Bobby to take care of the grumpy man who had been freshly released from hospital after he had had a minor stroke, Cas had decided to go with Dean. He never liked the thought of the hunter going off on his own. Besides, he enjoyed spending time with him. Before he disappeared something came to his mind. He turned to look at Dean and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, right where it had once left a burning scar. If Cas moved his fingers a bit he could still feel it through the fabric.

“Thank you, Dean.” The angel said and looked into Dean’s eyes. Definitely stars.

The hunter returned his gaze confused.

“For what?” he asked.

Cas thought for a moment. He really didn’t know, he just had the feeling he owed Dean gratitude for some reason. He tried to remember if he had ever witnessed such a situation between two humans and vaguely something popped up in his mind.

“For…everything.” The angel offered.

Dean stared at him for a moment. He would later blame the alcohol but in that moment he just lost control. He leaned in and kissed Cas and before he had a chance to realize what he was doing and pull back, he felt the other responding, kissing him back. Dean couldn’t believe it. A chilling breeze blew past them and the hunter wanted to persuade himself that it was said breeze that sent a shiver through his body. He felt Cas’ hand, still on his shoulder, tighten and pull him closer. It seemed the wine had loosened Dean’s tongue in all the right ways when he slid it past the angels parted lips. The hunter felt too much emotions rushing through him to grasp even one of them. He just knew he was kissing an angel, **no** , he was kissing _his_ angel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my first fanfiction ever! :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Not sure if I should continue this, feel free to leave comments! :)


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